


The emptiness after the hunger

by Prika



Category: Social Network (2010)
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, M/M, Mental Institutions, body issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-11-29 07:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/684438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prika/pseuds/Prika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eduardo's always running, he can't stop. If he does, the hole will swallow him, and everything will lose sense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Social Network belongs to David Fincher
> 
> This story contains descriptions of someone developing and going through an eating disorder, as well as body and self esteem issues. If any of these is a trigger to you, please don't read it. I've experienced an eating disorder myself and so none of the things I'll be saying here is meant to offend anyone, they're only based on my experience of the illness. Since I could totally picture Eduardo as someone who could be at risk of developing one, I decided to write this.
> 
> English is not my first language, be warned!

Like any other kid, at High School, Eduardo’s worst nightmare was being excluded from _the group._ He engaged in activities that the majority of boys his age did, such as making fun of each other and/or teachers (which Eduardo sucked at; he was too sentimental for that), chasing girls, talking about sports and porn and frequenting bars with a fake id.

 

It’s not as if he couldn’t enjoy it. But Eduardo blamed his precocity on the fact that nothing could be more interesting to him than talking to people. Eduardo loved reading into them, finding out their inner selves, unraveling intricate feelings and thoughts. And since boys his age didn’t like doing it in general, Eduardo’s best friend during his whole High School years had been a girl – Angela.

 

Angela had a very strong, straight forward personality. Eduardo watched in awe as she spoke her mind without caring who listened, and sometimes it could be intimidating. Even if he admired her, Eduardo knew he would never function like this; he cared too much about what people thought of him.

 

So, many times between classes, instead of playing football with the other kids or trying to smoke without getting caught, Eduardo would sit by the stairs with Angela. Hours could go by without him noticing. At first, people had mercilessly teased them with comments about them being a couple, which made Eduardo blush and pissed Angela off, every time they were seen in a corner paying such attention to each other. Then, as time went by and nothing changed, everyone accepted with reluctance that it wasn’t the case.

 

And the thing was, the only thing they did was actually exchanging ideas about life in general. They talked about their dreams, about people, about novels, movies and TV shows. Really; Eduardo didn’t know a single boy his age who could actually hold a conversation for that long, and this girl was the first person that made Eduardo want to share his thoughts. She was really nice to talk to; she _listened,_ and there was kindness along with her cutting honesty. Girls matured sooner than boys, anyway.

 

He obviously felt out of place because of his tastes, without even needing the boys to pick on him all the time because he'd rather have a nice chat with a girl than hook up with her. On the other hand, Eduardo sensed he had something special. Somehow, even at such an early age, he already saw the value of having such a bond with someone.

 

For some reason, his father didn’t seem to approve of their friendship. He had told Eduardo he should have male friends, had asked what was it that he did with her, and when Eduardo said that they only talked, his father had given him a cold, scrutinizing glare. He always made Eduardo hang up the phone in the middle of their talk, and Eduardo didn’t like bringing her to his house, because his father was unpleasant when he did. It’s not that he openly mistreated the girl, but he wouldn’t even look at her face, wouldn’t talk to her properly. He tried to forbid Eduardo of going to her house, but his mother, thank God, had interfered in his defense.

 

One day, Eduardo had woken up late and didn’t even look at himself in the mirror before running to school. Later, at lunch break, Angela had pulled a comb from her bag and combed his hair, making fun of him because it was pointing to all directions. She even gave it a special treatment, arranging it to cover a part of his forehead instead of completely pulling it to the side, as Eduardo usually did. When she was finished, she grabbed a small mirror and showed him the result. Eduardo smiled, pleased.

 

When he returned to his place, he opened his book and there was a small, kneaded paper that read: _you faggot._

 

Eduardo flinched and looked around. No one was looking. He felt as if his skin was shrinking. He had a clue of who had done it. There was this kid, the one that had been the most insistent about picking at Eduardo because of his friend. Many people had done it, but this kid was kind of a leader, and Eduardo had always sensed something more aggressive on him, in the way he spit the words, the way he looked at them with malice and anger.

 

He was also the boy Eduardo had a crush in. He didn’t understand why; the boy was always rude, he was a bully, really. After the incident, which Eduardo mentioned to no one, he thought he would at least get over his crush. Indeed, he felt less delusional. Still, he couldn’t help stealing glances now and then.

 

In the second year of high school, Angela left the town.

 

Eduardo had people he enjoyed hanging out with. People had always caught his interest and he was relatively outgoing, despite his insecurities, so it was a rare thing for him to be on his own. Still, he had no one as close to him as she had been; someone to call just to talk about whatever. He just couldn’t find himself being intimate with anyone else in his class.

 

So, it was a matter of time before he started feeling awfully alone, even if he was frequently invited to parties and group meetings.

 

School was getting harder; there were still two years until college but his father was demanding that Eduardo exceeded everyone else with his studies. His father didn't seem to have any other reason to talk to Eduardo except for this one, and his mother pretended it was normal. Eduardo had tried for an open relationship with his father, mostly when he was younger. It's not as if he believed his father didn't care; it was just that his father always looked at him as if Eduardo was speaking a foreign language every time he tried telling him something personal, something aside studies and professional life. Still, Eduardo believed he'd get what he wanted from his father, eventually. When he made him proud enough.

 

He had gotten over the ridiculous crush on that jerk and now he had developed a new one for a guy that sometimes was his partner at physical education. This one appeared to be smart and funny and was all patient with Eduardo’s terrible moves at sports, always attempting to teach him, which would make this crush healthier than the previous one. Except the guy happened to have a girlfriend.

 

So, knowing it couldn’t be helped, Eduardo tried to focus on his studies. He didn’t become antisocial or anything, because it wasn’t his nature, but he started going out less, especially when he knew the guys only intended on getting wasted and nothing else.

 

Eduardo wouldn’t dread family reunions so much if it wasn’t for the unavoidable aunt with her unoriginal inquire: _what do you want to study at college_ , and, _any girlfriends yet_ , as if she didn’t ask the same questions every fucking time. When Eduardo politely replied that no, no girlfriends, his cousin, who was fifteen like him, said, _me neither, though if I was smart and slim like you, I wouldn’t be single for sure!_

 

Eduardo laughed and told her she was beautiful and smart, because he really thought so. His cousin had a strong presence for someone her age and he admired her a lot.

 

But her words kept stuck in his mind. _Slim_. No one had ever said it to him as a compliment; his mother always worried that he was thin.

 

Eduardo liked looking at himself in the mirror; he didn’t consider himself stunning or anything, he just thought he was at least a little attractive. But he had never linked the idea to being thin.

 

He got home and felt the urge to look at himself. Eduardo stood in front of the full body mirror at the back of his wardrobe. He was slim, indeed. And his dark pants and jacket really suit him. Carefully removing his clothes, he studied his body with new criticism. Yeah, he looked good. He had lean, long limbs and narrow hips and waist.

 

Maybe he should stay like this. Maybe that guy would notice him if he became even more slender?

 

Eduardo had never paid attention to his diet before. He ate tons of junk food like any kid his age, but at home his mother had always made him eat a healthy diet. Still, Eduardo was startled at how fast he was able to change his eating habits. At home it was easier, but when he went out, he started ordering salads. Plus, he asked his mother to join a gym.

 

For some reason, at the same time, it became somehow easier to focus on his studies. Eduardo found himself studying hours a day and getting excellent grades. Soon, he became the first in his class and suddenly, he realized that he was competing over the place with the other couple of nerds in his class.

 

The first feeling that got to him was the ecstasies of having absolute control over his mind and body. It made him feel powerful, like he could do whatever he wanted.

 

The first five pounds came down quickly. He was thinner than he had ever been. For some reason, though, Eduardo just _couldn’t_ stop there. He _craved_ more of that feeling of being unbeatable. He had to lose more weight. And he had to keep the best grades, because he was better than all those stupid kids in his class.

 

For the first time, Eduardo became familiar with his aggressive side he had never really acknowledged. The strength of it frightened him. He'd look at his classmates and think, _who the hell are these people._ He'd look at _his own father_ and fight the urge to talk back every time.

 

On a weekend, his cousin asked him to accompany her to a dance club. She was the only person who knew of his liking for boys and the place she went to were always gay friendly, Eduardo knew. He thought, _yeah, why not,_ and dressed in tight jeans and black jacket, an idea vaguely crossing his mind.

 

Eduardo had never openly flirted with a guy, but tonight, he believed he had nothing to lose. When someone caught his eye, a man that was probably at least ten years older, he kept making eye contact. The guy kept staring back as he danced. Eduardo started moving languidly, with the intent of seducing. He rocked his lips, lifted his arms above his head, shook his head. He felt sexy, especially because there was a good amount of alcohol running through his veins.

 

The guy came behind Eduardo and whispered something in his ear, making him feel ecstatic with anticipation.

 

The guy pressed Eduardo against a sink in the bathroom and kissed him, hot and urgent, nothing but the physical electricity of body against body. Almost immediately, he was pulling Eduardo closer and rubbing against him. It was obvious he wanted to show Eduardo his hardness and Eduardo suddenly froze. The guy was drunk with lust, panting, hands grabbing at Eduardo's waist and going down, opening his waistband. Other hand came to Eduardo's and pressed it against his own hardness.

 

All he could do was squeeze and stroke as the same was done from him. Eduardo swallowed his urge to run from there and did his best to finish quickly, as the guy seemed blissfully unaware of his panic.

 

Eduardo left the club feeling nauseous. All night, images of the guy grabbing him kept flashing through his mind, images of the guy's desperate, lustful eyes and hands and mouth, and for some reason it seemed so ugly. He couldn't tell what went wrong; Eduardo had been attracted to this guy. But Eduardo didn't like it; the primal urge, the animal, bestial desire he had seen. It had disgusted him.

 

And this was how this world functioned; what moved this world. Physical needs. The body had physical needs and there was no escaping and people were slaves to them. It controlled everyone. That man, a total stranger, had been hungry for Eduardo's skinny frame, as if he was a piece of meat. Eduardo had wanted him too. It had felt good being wanted, having a man hold him like that, until things actually happened.

 

Eduardo scrutinized himself in the mirror. It shamed him. This long, graceless body that dragged his ridiculous mind through this world. His delusional mind that sometimes believed people were stupid, when he was the stupid one; thinking himself special and smart, when he couldn't make more than one friend, had only impossible crushes and kept dreaming one would become true. Thinking himself so good for seducing a hot guy only to feel like shit afterwards. So stupid, always running to his father to say things like _see, I got an A,_ and, _teacher told me my essay was awesome,_ even knowing he wouldn't get more than _you don't have other duties aside from studying, so that's expected._ And it was true.

 

The only one thing he ever did well was losing weight.

 

He reduced even more his intake. He started weighing himself with more frequency, until he was doing it every day. Why did it feel so good to lose? It was intoxicating, it made him want to eat even less, to put his limits to proof.

 

With each extra pound lost, the obsession consumed him further, to the point that it was mind numbing. The small amount of strength left on him was used to study. Eduardo didn’t even notice when he stopped thinking about Angela, dreaming with his crush, or worrying about anything whatsoever.

 

People started talking. His mother came to him. Eduardo panicked; she couldn’t know. He told her he lost weight because he was running. She made him promise to eat more. That night, she kept serving him more food at dinner and Eduardo had no option but to eat.

 

God, he felt awful. All that food was inside him now, the guilt was consuming him, he was burning with shame, and he’d have to run hours to burn all those calories, and what the hell was happening to him?

 

Eduardo ran upstairs to his bathroom and purged for the first time. It was a terrible discomfort and gross. After, he felt _high._ He was so relieved to get rid of the food.

 

Now that he had found this trick, he’d never have to feel bad again.

 

Eduardo became distant from people. He rarely went out, afraid of being forced to eat. And he was always so angry. He even yelled at his father once, something he had never done before. At meal times, he always fought with his parents. At school, he easily lost his temper; his classmates pissed him off only by existing. Their noises, their games, everything was stupid. Nothing made sense. Nothing mattered. And no one cared anyway.

 

He had lost twenty pounds. His second year of high school was over. Next year he’d go to college.

 

Only one thing worried him: how was he going to hide his eating habits from his parents during vacation? The first week was hard; he had to eat breakfast with them. And then, something weird occurred; one day, he was particularly hungry after a long run. He came home and ate more than he had planned. And suddenly, he couldn’t stop. He ate everything in his sight, and it was overwhelming, because it felt incredibly good, God, and he ate things he had not tasted for months, but at the same time he knew he wouldn’t be ok after that. Each bite was swallowed with punishing guilt and shame, and still he went on. He hardly chewed, actually; he just gulped the food down.

 

Eduardo went to his room, cried and purged. Then, he returned to the kitchen, attacked the food again, ran to the bathroom and purged once more.

 

From that day on, it happened at least twice a week. He’d load himself with food, panic and purge. Even when he didn’t eat so much, he still purged. Eduardo was afraid it would lead to weight gain, but it didn’t. Soon, he became used to these behaviors, as the purging always made him feel better regardless of how much he ate. He was in control again.

 

So, now, he could eat well in front of anyone and just take care of it after.

 

On the second week, Angela called him and asked if he wanted to travel with her and some friends. At first, he panicked. How could he keep his diet on a trip? But even through all his apathy, he still missed her.

 

Angela’s eyes widened when she saw him. Eduardo gave her the same excuse of being a runner now, but she kept suspicious. They were staying in a house by the beach that belonged to her family. On the supermarket, Angela raised an eyebrow at his choice of fruits and veggies, and said, ‘really?’, but didn’t press anymore.

 

Angela’s friends were nice, but he was awfully jealous of them. Back at school, he had been too attached to her, so it was kind of painful to see a bunch of people who were in touch with her more than he was. Many times, Eduardo found himself angry for not having her undivided attention. Besides, he felt terribly self-conscious; his obsession with staying thin had drained all his focus and it had been a long time since he had hanged out with people. Eduardo felt he was probably a boring company, because all he could think about was calories and how to burn them. He felt so disconnected from reality.

 

He was miserable and lonelier than ever and ended picking up a fight with Angela. With her usual sincerity, she told him he was not her only friend and not to be selfish. Eduardo wanted to die of shame. He had become unused to feeling so many things and wished to isolate himself.

 

Still, it was good having Angela around again, and the kids were friendly. Eduardo had forgotten how good it was having a friend to talk to. One night, they all gathered at the living room and talked about going to college. Everyone was pretty excited to leave home and enter a whole new world. They searched for pictures of universities on the internet and the campus were huge and this new life promised to be great.

 

Eduardo felt something rising in his chest; something he had forgotten.

 

In a year, he’d be living on his own, studying what he chose, doing what he wanted with his time. He’d meet nice, smart people; people that would probably share interests with him.

 

By the end of the week, when they parted, Angela made him promise not to slip away again.

 

When he went home, Eduardo felt shaken. This travel had been like a piece of the world that waited for him. Independency, new people, new places. It was scary. Somehow, even with Angela being there for him, Eduardo had felt on his own. What was the matter with him? Was he too needy?

 

Even so, the experience had tempted him. Maybe life was full of possibilities.

 

He lost some more weight during the rest of vacation, but not too much.

 

When classes restarted, Eduardo instantly got in the mood to study, but not to be the best student. He wanted to go to Harvard.

 

Little by little, his strength was returning. He felt refreshed as hadn’t in a long time. He had a priority in mind. Something that mattered. He talked to Angela on the phone once in a while, but they rarely met, because they lived far from each other.

 

By the end of the year, he was admitted to Harvard and had gained weight back.

 

In a way, college was exactly what Eduardo expected. It really was freeing not living under the watch of his parents. He did his own schedule and there was no one to tell him where and when to go.

 

From the very first day, high expectations were placed over them. They were students of one of the most conceited universities in the world. They absolutely had to perpetuate the name.

 

Eduardo’s father had given him a long speech about how he shouldn’t waste time. He should be an exemplar student, but he shouldn’t stay passive, should take matters into his own hands and be a leader.

 

Yeah, Eduardo could agree with him. He committed to his studies from the very start and engaged in extra academic activities. Dealing with people was something he had always enjoyed, no matter how difficult it could be, so participating in all kinds of groups wasn’t hard for him.

 

Months went by and he had gotten to meet lots of people, but didn’t really know anyone, even if he always tried to. Eduardo knew it wasn’t easy, but he was getting impatient and anxious. He looked around and saw tons of beautiful and smart people. Thousands of people and he was completely alone.

 

Maybe he wasn’t smart or beautiful enough.

 

Oh, but he would prove himself to be. He wouldn’t hesitate this time.

 

Eduardo doubled his studying hours. There was a congress coming next month; Eduardo wrote an essay with the help of a teacher and submitted it. His work was accepted and he traveled to present it. Other students came to him, asking him to take part on discussing groups.

 

For a freshman, he was doing pretty well.

 

After one year without doing it, Eduardo stepped on the scale. He had gained thirty pounds since he had recovered from what he knew now was a case of bulimia. It didn’t look like he gained so much; he had needed the weight, aside from obviously growing taller.

 

Still, he should watch it.

 

Soon, he rediscovered how everything got easier when he was controlling his food; how it soothed the anxiety. He wasn’t doing anything drastic, though.

 

Halfway through the year, he met Mark, and through him, Dustin and Chris.

 

Regarding some aspects, Mark reminded him of Angela, in the way he was fearless, his honesty almost brutal (which, as weird as it may seem, was comforting to Eduardo; all this frankness, as hurtful as it could be sometimes, made Mark more real, his presence stronger to Eduardo). There was also the agile, restless mind. But Angela, for all that mattered, expressed herself in more open ways. She had never been easy to read, being the type to keep her guard up, not wanting others to know her weaknesses. Eduardo, however, was proud of having a way of seeing through people. Plus, once Angela got to trust him, she dropped her defenses considerably.

 

Really, Mark was even harder to read. Eduardo knew Mark pretended there was nothing to be read into him, and it would be easy to fall into the lie, with Mark’s straight forwardness when he wanted something. You could easily think, _here’s a guy who’s got nothing to hide._

 

No one was that simple, though.

 

Anyway, they became close pretty quickly. Mark was recluse, Eduardo was patient. Eduardo openly showed he liked having Mark around; Mark kept letting him, sometimes coming to him, which could only mean one thing in his direct language.

 

It’s not that it wasn’t enough. But Eduardo… He had always had this need of being unique to someone. Actually, he firmly believed everyone had this need, but he also believed that in his case, it bordered neurosis. And Mark had become extremely important to him in a small amount of time. Chris and Dustin had, too. With Mark, however… Eduardo couldn’t tell if it was Mark’s extreme individualism or if it was Eduardo’s own intricate mind that had chosen the most difficult person to obsess over. The fact remained, however, that Eduardo had a feeling that he was always trying to be good enough.

 

Mark made fun of his hair, of his style, of his stupidly good grades, of him being the entire docent body’s wet dream and of his overly busy schedule. Especially of his overly busy schedule. On a Friday night, Mark, Chris and Dustin cornered him outside his room and dragged him to their dorm. They started pouring him shots of tequila, and when everyone had enough alcohol through their system, Chris spit the truth that they (including Mark) had been worried Eduardo was overdoing it.

 

Only then, Eduardo realized all the making fun was Mark’s way of being concerned.

 

He ended playing Mario Kart with them, before having all the nonsense drunk talk, and when he finally went to sleep, the sun was rising. Eduardo had never done it since he started college, and it felt ridiculously freeing and good. Next day, though, he woke up feeling guilty for missing his morning exercises and went for a run before anyone else had woken.

 

As it turned out, having friends was incompatible with having an impeccable performance. Eduardo had to a) study every day; b) always look for conferences and meetings; c) be an awesome friend, because he fucking valued friendship; d) always eat healthy and exercise and e) never let anyone notice his short circuiting mind.

 

It was so hard finding time to be there for the guys, but Eduardo always managed to, no matter how exhausted he was. He started bringing his books and notes over to their dorm, so at least they could study together. Not that he’s ever seen Mark studying, anyway.

 

Mark was the one that stayed in mostly, so Eduardo’s usually on his bed as Mark works on some project by his desk. When Mark finished before him, he always managed to drag Eduardo from whatever he’s doing. One day, though, Eduardo’s taking a look at his notes because he’s got a studying group in a couple of hours and he wants to do well, doesn’t want to be a burden to the others. Mark, however, had finished his coding and wanted Eduardo to go get a drink with him. They had agreed to go when Eduardo was finished, but he still had a way to go and told Mark to wait.

 

Then, Mark shrugged and told Eduardo he was wasting his time.

 

“Why?”

 

“I bet you’re the only one who studies for these groups. I bet it’s you talking and they only listen. They’re probably using you.”

 

Eduardo tightened his jaw, not bothering to hide his shock.

 

“Well, you’re mistaken. Other people talk too, and they’re good.”

 

“Yeah, has it been any help for you?”

 

Eduardo opened his mouth and closed it. Mark narrowed his eyes.

 

“See? It’s useless. A stupid way to use your time.”

 

Because to Mark, everything that went against or didn’t relate to his interests was stupid and useless.

 

“All right, Mark. Whatever.”, Eduardo muttered. He didn’t go with Mark, but became unable to concentrate any further.

 

Mark was his best friend, and he hurt Eduardo in the same proportion.

 

Eduardo wondered if Mark, with his creative, unique mind, thought of Eduardo as a boring, traditional guy who only followed rules.

 

By now, however, Eduardo had developed his own way of dealing with pain and stress. Skip a meal. Run an extra mile. Cut down calories.

 

He was in control, nonetheless.     


	2. Chapter 2

Eduardo grew up watching his father deal with the business world, and as he got older, his father started introducing him to some concepts, explaining how things worked. He had even taken Eduardo to his work a few times and had brought him to reunions, so he could see for himself.

 

As Eduardo watched his father and those man discussing possibilities, measuring their decisions, trying to predict results, always with a heavy air of importance, that life had sounded exciting to him. It had sounded unpredictable. But his father, in Eduardo’s opinion, didn’t take enough risks. When Eduardo told him so, his father had explained to him that every single act involving investments was already risky. So competence meant reducing the risks at most.

 

Eduardo silently disagreed with him and after high school he applied for Economy, picturing himself as an adventurous investor, always investigating, finding opportunities where no one else had.

 

Now, at his second year of college, Eduardo had caught a better glimpse of how things actually functioned, and was beginning to feel deceived. Money ruled everything; it was the boss behind every action. The oil episode that had earned him a lot of money had gone so well because Eduardo was smart, surely, but it had also taken a good amount of luck. He could have lost a small fortune.

 

But now, he had become somehow popular. He was invited to join an investors club. His schedule was a hundred percent filled. Eduardo was good with what he did, and that’s what mattered, right?

 

God, he didn’t stop. He wasn’t just a student now; he was a junior professional. He had to stay alert, look for internships, frequent the right places, meet the right people. And conciliate all this with dropping by Kirkland at least twice a week, or risk Chris and Dustin invading his dorm whenever they decided to. Even Mark, for all his ‘I don’t care’ posture, texted Eduardo if he was gone for more than a week, with something evasive such as ‘what’s up for today?’.

 

By now, though, Eduardo had learned to translate him better, which just had to be done, otherwise they’d never have gotten anywhere near where they were now.

 

Mark, with his nonchalant attitude, had managed to shake Eduardo’s world so unconsciously it was disconcerting. He had changed the way Eduardo thought of _everything._ Being with Mark made most things sound stupid, and if Eduardo wasn’t careful, he’d start thinking the same of himself.

 

Mark had no care for rules or for what people might think of him, which Eduardo believed was simply awesome, though it was infuriating when it was turned against him. In many ways, it was too much like how things had worked between Eduardo and Angela. She was that kind of friend that would turn to you with _I can't believe you did that, it's ridiculous,_ and Eduardo, always the sensitive one, would be hurt and sometimes argue, but mostly be hurt. He wasn't good with arguing.

 

Mark didn’t go out of his way for anyone, and Eduardo did go out of his way for his friends. And Mark… well, Mark took him for granted.

Even so, Eduardo craved Mark’s approval like air, and sometimes he thought he was losing his mind.

 

If it wasn’t for the control Eduardo was carefully exerting over his food, he believed he wouldn’t be able to handle anything else. It dictated everything. If he could do it right, anything else could be done. Because it was a reassuring feeling; it left him relaxed, it numbed the stress.

 

He wasn’t heavily restricting, though. Eduardo had lost weight again since starting college, but not too much. Chris had mentioned it once at the dorm, and Dustin agreed. Eduardo reassured them it was only stress.

 

“But you also run a lot.”, Mark had pointed out, and for some reason, it made Eduardo angry and embarrassed. Did Mark have to notice _this,_ of all things?

 

“Yeah, I enjoy it. It’s stress relieving.”, he’d said in his defense, and Chris casually suggested,

 

“Maybe you should take it easy for a while.”

 

When Eduardo agreed, Mark finally averted his eyes, sipping his beer, and said nothing.

 

Eduardo knew his behavior towards weight issues was somehow disturbed, but he didn’t think it was as bad as it had gotten that first time. It was just… it was his coping mechanism, the best he had. When things went wrong, he just needed to restrict, like when he didn’t do well in an exam, when he answered something wrong in a class, when it was hard dealing with someone.

 

If Eduardo was honest with himself, which he didn’t know if he was, he’d admit that even some things about Mark caused him to restrict, though Eduardo couldn’t put his finger on it. It was a subconscious process, too shocking to be fully acknowledged.

 

But it was no big deal. He wasn’t even purging.

 

Halfway through the year, Mark started going out with a girl. When Eduardo stepped into the dorm on a Friday night and found Mark getting ready for his first date, pretending not to be listening to Chris’s advices, his jaw almost fell to the floor.

 

_Wow, she must be some girl, to have called Mark Zuckerberg’s attention._

 

For some reason, Eduardo found himself wondering if Mark would hold himself from using his bitter sarcasm on her, if he’d drop his coding to stay with her, if his eyes would lighten up because she said something funny (such a rare thing, to make him smile).

 

Even if it wasn’t of a sexual nature, this jealousy caught Eduardo out of guard for its intensity.

 

It had been a particular distressing week. It started with Eduardo going home for the weekend only to have his academic performance restlessly evaluated by his father. Back to Harvard, Eduardo had complained with Mark about it, expecting some empathy, and as per usual, not getting any, since Mark believed it was Eduardo's fault for listening. Then, Eduardo had paired up with a guy to finish some project, but they had disagreed a lot and the final work had sucked. Plus, Eduardo had suffered from the flu and had not managed to run all week.

 

Friday night, he went to his dorm after a long Wii marathon with Chris and Dustin. Mark was off to a date. He declined the pizza they had ordered and went to bed without dinner. Next morning, he woke up feeling weak, didn’t eat breakfast and went for a run. He met with the guys in the afternoon, still nothing in his stomach.

 

He wasn’t feeling well and excused himself to his dorm early in the night. Eduardo couldn’t sleep, his stomach grumbling furiously, it hurt, and he got out of bed, grabbed a package of chips and devoured it in a few seconds. He didn’t store much food in his room, so he went out to do some groceries and came back with bagels, cheese and chocolate. He ate desperately.

 

Eduardo was afraid he had forgotten how to, but he easily purged everything.

 

_Shit, why did he have to be so fucked up? What was going to become of him if he lost the ability to do this one thing right?_

 

_If he let everything go, gave up control, what would be left? He was the good looking, slender boy, who could run 10 miles and he was also one of Harvard’s golden boys, ambitious but classy, going after success and getting it, because he could. Plus, he was the ever present, caring friend._

 

_But it was never enough. It could lose sense so easily it was disorienting. Did it make sense to others? Didn’t other people see through the façade?_

 

It was a Saturday night when Eduardo’s phone vibrated with a new message. Mark had texted, _are you studying,_ which was his code for, _drop everything, I’m bored._ Eduardo smiled and headed to Kirkland. Mark was sitting on the couch, a bottle of beer in hands, some TV show Eduardo had never seen him watching going on.

 

“Where’s everyone?”

 

“Don’t know.”, Mark shrugged.

 

“How about Erica?”

 

Mark kept his eyes on the TV.

 

“She’s gone to some party.”

 

Eduardo took a seat by his side, grabbing a bottle for himself. Mark was acting weird. Weirder. He decided not to press. After a couple of minutes, Mark casually added,

 

“She invited me, but I wasn’t in the mood for loud people and loud music.”

 

Eduardo nodded.

 

“I see. Think she’s upset?”

 

Mark shook his head. He bit his lips, and then,

 

“I probably should have gone, though.”, he said so quickly Eduardo almost couldn’t distinguish any word.

 

“Relax, man. I'm sure she won’t hold it against you.”

 

“Yeah, but… She’s pretty and smart. It would be easy for her to find someone else who wants do go where she wants.”

 

Eduardo almost choked on his drink. He looked at Mark without bothering to hide his shock.

 

“You’re so wrong. You couldn’t be more mistaken. This is not how things work, Mark. She likes you, it doesn't change easily.”

 

And he was such an hypocrite. Eduardo wished he could fully believe what he was saying. Actually, it's not that he didn't. What Eduardo believed was that Mark, of all people, shouldn't have to worry like this, because he was interesting, brilliant, unique.

 

He just wished he could apply the same thought to himself.

 

But he knew that Mark, for all his arrogant posture, didn't always think so highly of himself as he wanted others to believe. He couldn't fool Eduardo. And here was the proof that Mark could be as insecure as the next guy.

 

Mark was looking at the floor, as if considering Eduardo's words, his features unusually softened with openness. Eduardo felt warmth spreading through his chest from seeing Mark so vulnerable.

 

“Why don't you give her a call?”

 

“What?”, Mark snapped out of his trance, frowning. Eduardo shrugged.

 

“Maybe you'll feel better if you do.”

 

Mark scowled.

 

“I don't see any need for this, it's stupid.”

 

Eduardo rolled his eyes. Trust Mark to drop the shield and rebuild it almost immediately.

 

A month later, he met Erica. Eduardo had been unconsciously building an _image_ in his mind, of this super smart girl, probably some kind of genius, and evidently, beautiful. He shouldn't have been startled when Erica laughed of silly jokes and talked about ordinary things everyone does, and actually seemed to like him. She was only a girl, for Christ's sake.

 

Why was his mind so delusional?

 

It was a Saturday night when Chris brought some friends over to the dorm to celebrate the end of exams week. Mark had complained but eventually yielded, as Dustin, who was always up for a small party, was on Chris's side and Eduardo had nothing against people, so.

 

Chris's friends were Literature majors so most were girls but there were also guys. Eduardo was enjoying the chat (he'd always liked reading and those people had several books to recommend) while Dustin played video game with someone and Mark was on the couch sulking with Erica by his side, making sure he didn't run off.

 

There was an endless source of beer that Eduardo suspected was Dustin. He had not drunk for a long time precisely because he knew it was a weakness for him; alcohol either drowned his sorrows or made him lose control, and Eduardo ended overdoing it.

 

It was well after midnight, most people were drunk, but the chat was still excitedly going on. A couple of people were dancing, or at least trying to in the small room. Eduardo was engaged in a conversation about some author with a guy. He appeared to be an enthusiast, as he gestured a lot while talking and nodded vigorously at the things Eduardo said. He was also paying such close attention to Eduardo's face, almost if... Eduardo knew Chris had friends who were into guys and he could tell this one was. As the music got louder, the guy approached him even more to listen. Eduardo, at some point, had gotten this languid smile on his face and his limbs were all loose, and the guy wouldn't avert his eyes.

 

Then, Eduardo's eyes looked for Mark's. Mark was talking to Erica and didn't notice, but Eduardo, against his will, kept stealing glances, until, eventually, their gazes met. Eduardo froze, held the gaze for a second and averted his eyes, but the guy noticed something and asked if he was alright. Eduardo, being completely drunk, threw his head back and laughed, telling him not to worry while shooting another glance at Mark, who was now blankly staring at somewhere else.

 

It took Eduardo some time to be able to focus again.

 

He couldn't deny the thrilling that ran through him when Mark had looked, and that Mark might have noticed him flirting. But it wasn't until next day, when he wasn't intoxicated anymore, that shame hit him.

 

Eduardo woke up in the afternoon, after passing out over the couch. Along with a terrible headache, conscience from last night hit him.

 

What the hell was he thinking? What had he tried to accomplish? He had wanted to be noticed. By Mark. And well, there was no denying, not after _this,_ that he had developed sort of a crush. But Mark was his friend, his closest one, and Eduardo treasured it so much, he'd never forgive himself if he ruined it.

Eduardo slowly rose from the couch, careful, knowing he'd be hungover, but felt sick anyway and ran to the toilet. He'd just finished throwing up when Mark came in with water and aspirin.

 

Eduardo froze but faced him. Mark quietly handed him glass and pills, which Eduardo took before thanking him. Mark was going to leave, but Eduardo was faster.

 

“Mark...”

 

Mark looked down at him.

 

He narrowed his eyes at Eduardo,

 

“I don't know how you've managed to throw up so much; you didn't eat anything yesterday.”

 

Eduardo flinched but said nothing. Mark had already left the bathroom.

 

In the main room, Chris and Dustin were spread over the couch, looking terrible too. Anyway, Chris smirked at him.

 

“So, Eduardo, do tell us!”

 

“You flirt with discretion, Wardo, but Chris has the eyes of an eagle!”

 

Eduardo started scratching his neck.

 

“Well, guys, I was so drunk...”

 

“Oh, what a shame. Does it mean I can't give your number to Brian? I already suspected he'd like you...”

 

At this moment, Mark came in.

 

“No, Chris, I'm sorry, he's your friend, but I...”

 

“Hey, relax! It's not like you promised to marry anyone.”

 

“Yeah. Wardo likes to collect admirers. There are at least half a dozen spread through his classes.”, Mark pointed, his voice flat.

 

“This is such a lie.”

 

“Don't play dumb. You know it.”

 

“I really don't.”

 

“Ok, kids, don't fight”, Dustin pleaded.

 

Eduardo had stopped losing weight. Without knowing why, as in that first time, he decided he had to lose more. So, Eduardo started purging again, especially because he had started having those episodes where he lost control over how much he ate. The only times he couldn't do it was when he was with the guys, as it would call attention. Eduardo only ordered low calorie food then, since he wouldn't be able to get rid of it. Still, it started to get awkward.

 

Chris was the first to notice. He came to Eduardo one night, after the others were asleep.

 

“So, Eduardo. What's going on? You're losing weight again.”, Chris calmly asked.

 

“I'm running, like, a lot.”

 

“Runners don't keep losing forever, you know.”, Chris retorted, no accusation, but he was serious.

 

Eduardo lowered his gaze. Chris went on, his tone gentle,

 

“You only order diet food.”

 

“I know, I... I've had a problem, you know, when I was younger, I went on a diet, and became somehow...obsessed, you know. With my weight and all.”

 

Eduardo's chest was tight, his face burned.

 

“You've had an eating disorder right?”

 

Eduardo nodded. Chris put a hand on his shoulder.

 

“And now, Eduardo? What's happening?”

 

“It's no big deal, I just... I'm eating healthy. I'm not sick.”

 

Chris looked at him in that way that made Eduardo feel not judged, only seen. He was a good friend which made Eduardo feel ashamed. He couldn't tell the truth about himself.

 

“I'm your friend. You don't have to hide it from me.”

 

“I'm not. It's true. You don't have to worry.”

 

“But I will. And I believe you, since you're my friend. But Eduardo, you know you cant count with me, right? And Dustin, and Mark. We're here.”

 

And he had not been so lost since high school. Back then, he had linked the feeling with Angela's absence. But now? Now he had friends. Close, good friends. Why did he feel so disconnected, then? Why did he have to focus so hard on things that hurt him, when he had so many good things?

 

Eduardo couldn't tell from where he was getting strength to go on with a 'normal' life, because his mind was a _wreck._ How in the world was he managing to get up, exercise, shower, dress well, study, socialize? But he did. He couldn't stop. God forbid he stopped, God forbid he _thought_ too much, because he had a feeling everything would go to hell, then.

 

Not long after, Erica broke up with Mark, and everything drastically changed.

 

Next months passed like a big blur. Mark came to him with this idea – which Eduardo immediately saw was something big – and asked him to be partners. Eduardo felt happy, proud, noticed. He felt useful. He was flattered that Mark came to him. He'd have to be _perfect,_ he couldn't fail.

 

Mark buried himself into his code, becoming even more unreachable, lost to this world. Sometimes, Eduardo brought him back, reminded him to eat, sleep, to go to his exams, to wear a goddamn coat.

 

He had never been under the impression that Mark _needed_ him or anything. But Eduardo knew, on the other hand, that Mark was vulnerable for the loss of Erica now. Besides, watching over Mark was such an effective distraction from his own issues that Eduardo fell into the role easily.

 

When he was punched by the Phoenix, Mark got clearly upset. Eduardo couldn't understand why. Why did Mark believe he needed those people's approval at all? It meant a lot to Eduardo. It shouldn't mean so much to Mark. Not when he was working on something with potential to change the world.

 

It was becoming harder to deal with Mark. His mind was in a constant race, even faster than it usually was. It was overwhelming and Eduardo sometimes believed the only reason he wasn't losing himself to Mark was because he was already lost to his sickness.

 

It was the end of a week that Eduardo had done particularly well. He had presented a work to which he'd done lots of research; he'd run ten extra miles and now he was exhausted. Still, he stopped by a coffee shop, picked up food for everyone and took it to the dorm. Dustin and Chris were watching TV. Mark was passed out on the floor, laptop by his side. Eduardo mumbled something about Mark skipping sleep hours and meals, and Dustin looked at him,

 

“Actually, Wardo, you look worse than him. Why don't you eat and crash on the couch? We'll give Mark his muffin when he wakes.”

 

Eduardo was startled to know he looked so bad. Maybe he really should sleep early. He ate his salad sandwich and ten minutes later he was out, mumbling something to the guys about waking him up early to run.

 

When he woke up, it was after noon. Mark was typing furiously. Dustin and Chris were nowhere to be seen.

 

“Mark? Didn't the guys tell you to wake me up?”

 

Mark was startled by his voice and blinked at him before answering.

 

“Yeah. But you looked like you needed the rest.”

 

“No. I had to run.”, Eduardo snapped, suddenly angry.

 

“Yeah, now the world will end because you didn't.”

 

Eduardo grunted and rushed to leave the room, before he lost his temper. Only when he reached his dorm, Eduardo realized he'd probably overreacted. It was pathetic how easily he lost it when it came to his routine. Later, he dropped by Kirkland to apologize. Mark shrugged; probably didn't even listen.

 

Sooner than everyone expected, thefacebook was online. It was... Eduardo had no words. Especially when he saw his name as the co-founder. He'd never seen Mark so happy and proud. It warmed his chest.

 

When two girls came asking him and Mark out, Eduardo had never expected to end up in a bathroom being blowed at the same time as Mark. He wondered if Christy had noticed him trying to listen to Mark. He wondered how _Mark_ had agreed to being blowed so close to Eduardo. And his heart thundered in his chest when he caught sight of Mark after his orgasm; his half lidded eyes. Mark had looked at Eduardo and fucking _blushed,_

_blushed_ before lowering his eyes. While they waited for the girls to freshen up, Mark had smiled so brightly Eduardo forgot how to breath.

 

Christy was strong willed, funny and well, a little crazy. Eduardo liked her. He decided to give it a try.

 

When the disagreements started between Mark and him, Eduardo couldn't help thinking of his father. His father, who had warned him against taking risks. Eduardo had never taken him seriously, but now, he could see.

 

Eduardo couldn't believe that things would work the way Mark believed. He had been raised and taught in a certain way. Mark wanted to defy everything, and he probably could. But Eduardo... He couldn't just give up control like this. Do nothing, because money and approval would fall from the sky? No way.

 

As if it wasn't enough distress, the Sean Parker show started. The guy was, in Eduardo's eyes, simply insufferable. But the worse thing was how Mark instantly worshipped him. As if Sean was shitting gold.

 

Soon, Sean was taking Eduardo's place, because he and Mark had the same ideas, and still, Eduardo refused to give in. He had to prove his method had worth.

 

He wasn't surprised when Mark followed Sean's advice and went to California for summer break. Mark, on the other hand, was visibly shocked when Eduardo refused to go. But he had an internship in New York and he couldn't drop it for something uncertain.

 

New York was beautiful, but it could be disturbing too. People were always in a rush. All places were crowded. And it was enormous. Eduardo practically had to split in two to do everything he had to. But halfway through the internship, Eduardo couldn't take it anymore. It was awfully _boring,_ he was learning nothing new, and he thought maybe it'd be better to be in Palo Alto.

 

He quit the internship and braced himself, knowing his father would crush him. It happened by phone; his father told him he'd never get anywhere and told him this Facebook thing, as he called, wasn't even business.

 

Indeed, Eduardo felt like crap. He had accomplished nothing in New York. No advertisement for Facebook despite his several attempts.

 

He landed in Palo Alto, waited in vain and called for a cab. Sean Parker opened the door and Eduardo froze. He knew better than arguing with him, though, because Eduardo feared for his own acts.

 

Mark had this disdainful tone when he asked about Christy and the internship. Then he started throwing on his face that things were progressing, that he wasn't taking part on it. It was unfair; Eduardo had looked for announcers like crazy every single day, couldn't Mark appreciate it? But he couldn't, and he made it clear he didn't care.

 

Eduardo had not eaten anything but an apple since this morning. He'd been upset because of his father, nervous about confronting Mark and disappointed with himself. After the fight in the hallway, Eduardo went to a room, still nothing in his stomach, and passed out from exhaustion. Next day, without talking to anyone, he packed and left.

 

Freezing the account might have been a little too much, though Eduardo had always been one for extremes. Anyway, people weren't listening to him and Sean Parker was bringing fucking drugs and minors to the house. It wasn't right.

 

Still, when Mark called announcing the Thiel investment, Eduardo was filled with excitement. He wanted things to work out, didn't Mark see it? He wanted to help. Eduardo was happy the company was succeeding, but he wished he'd done more.

 

His relationship with Christy had been deteriorating (actually it had never really functioned), so he put and end on it and flew to Palo Alto to celebrate the investment. During the flight, all Eduardo could think about was how Mark had repeated he needed him on the phone. He had to make himself worth it. Really, Eduardo would have to find a way to make things right. He couldn't keep failing.

 

It was the end of summer break, but it had been the most exhaustive break Eduardo'd ever had.

 

He went straight to Facebook's new offices. Everyone was there. Mark had the big smile on his face, the one with dimples, and kept staring at Eduardo so intently it was disconcerting. Mark clearly wished to share all this with him, but at the same time, there was something melancholic in him, especially when he got nostalgic and started recalling old times. Eduardo blamed the vodka; Mark had never been able to hold it.

 

Half through the night, he stood up to use the bathroom. His vision went dark, the world was spinning, and he fainted.

 

His conscience was slowly returning. First, the world came in black and white. Something was bipping. He didn't know what happened and panicked for a moment, before someone gently informed,

 

“You're in the hospital, don't worry.”

 

Eduardo turned his head; it was a nurse that had spoken. Behind her, in a small couch, were Dustin and Mark.

 

“What happened?”, he asked, his voice hoarse. There was a needle into his left arm.

 

“You fainted, I found you near the bathroom.”, Dustin said, his eyes huge. Eduardo felt horribly guilty.

 

“The doctor will come later to talk to you. You were seriously dehydrated.”, the nurse told him, before checking his temperature and excusing herself.

 

“What happened, man?”, Dustin asked, and Eduardo could see his disturbance.

 

“Well, I... It was really hot yesterday and I overdid it with running and didn't drink enough.”.

 

He omitted the part where he had purged pretty much everything he ate and drank too much alcohol at the party.

 

“You scared the hell out of me. Give me a second, I'll call Chris.”

 

Eduardo froze. Chris would know.

 

“Dustin, let me talk to him.”

 

“Yeah, sure, let me just tell him you're ok.”, he said, already leaving the room.

 

Mark was staring blankly at him. Eduardo shrugged,

 

“I'm sorry.”

 

“I hope you're happy.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I said I hope you're happy now, that you have all this attention. Isn't it what you said you wanted? To call attention?”

 

“That had nothing to do with this. And the attention I wanted for freezing the account was not this kind of attention!”

 

“Well, now you have all kinds. Do enlighten me, please. What do you hope to accomplish with this bullshit?”

 

Eduardo gritted his teeth. He could feel his face burning.

 

“I hope for nothing. I asked for nothing.”

 

“I think you did.”

 

Dustin came in, handing him the phone. Eduardo asked them to leave him alone for a minute, to talk in particular. His hands were still shaking when he grabbed the phone.

 

It was hard, but he managed to convince Chris not to tell Mark and Dustin. Still, Chris made him promise to tell the doctor. Eduardo did, and the doctor gave him the number of a therapist and of a psychiatrist. Since he wasn't in imediate danger, they had to release him.

 

Next day, he was going back to Harvard. They went back to the house in Palo Alto. As soon as he got there, Eduardo went straight to a bedroom. He needed to be alone and rest.

 

But he couldn't sleep.

 

Mark's words were stuck in his mind. It was disturbing him and he knew why; there was some sense to what Mark had thrown in his face. At the same time, though, it's not as if Eduardo had any control over what he did. He was like an addicted. And maybe... maybe he wanted people to notice? But Chris had noticed, and Eduardo had panicked.

 

Had he been expecting something different from Mark? Perhaps. It was no news to Eduardo that he _did_ look for Mark's attention. But Mark had said worse than this; he'd implied Eduardo had been sick on purpose. Really, this was just Mark's huge ego speaking. And _shit,_ it made Eduardo so _mad._ He almost had the urge to just send everything to hell and tell Mark already.

 

Or maybe, Mark had actually figured what was wrong with him, and thought it was his fault anyway.

 

A little after midnight, Eduardo saw as Mark opened the door to check on him. He pretended to be asleep, not wanting to deal with him now. Later, Mark did it again. Eduardo kept still, wondering.

 

Over the next six months, Chris watched over him at college. Eduardo had tried to convince him his case wasn't that urgent, he was only slightly underweight after all, but Chris wasn't fool. He knew how this could progress. They had long talks. Eduardo opened up to him and felt understood and comforted.

 

Eduardo also started seeing a therapist. He was doing it for the first time in his life, and it felt as if he could get better. He had never talked so deeply about his issues and it was relieving. Maybe there was a way out, even if he's thought he was trapped.

 

He had been a week without purging when the dilutions came.


	3. Chapter 3

At first, Eduardo was mostly revolted.

 

He was hurt, surely, and caught out of guard, and awfully deceived. But anger prevails, somehow. He thinks it's probably something to do with therapy, which is forcing him try to get things out of his chest. His outburst with Mark in the office is the best proof it's working.

 

Though, to the last minute, Eduardo was just waiting for a word from Mark. Anything. But Mark just watched as Sean humiliated him and security threw him out, so.

 

And since he's in therapy, Eduardo talks exhaustively about Mark's betrayal. Then, as he goes into details, he realizes it's not only about the dilutions. It's about Mark, really. Eduardo hadn't realized how many resentments he harbored towards his friend.

 

As it always is, as Eduardo unraveled his relationship with Mark, he also learned about himself.

 

How he acted as if he expected nothing in return for being so attentive when it actually _did_ upset him that Mark wouldn't return his attentions in the same level.

 

How he _had_ handled Facebook in a childish way, because he was jealous of Sean and because he didn't want to admit on being wrong.

 

How he still didn't know exactly all his reasons to sue Mark.

 

And one year went like this. The issue had overwhelmed Eduardo to the point of outweighing his eating disorder. His mind, somehow, had completely changed its focus. Obsessions towards food and weight were being slowly diluted without Eduardo noticing. Diluted in a sea of recently found torments.

 

His closest friendship was over, and Eduardo knew he had helped screwing it up. He screwed up from the moment he put on a mask to hide who he was. He screwed up when he fought so hard for approval that he lost himself.

 

Behaviors that, by the way, were totally connected to his eating disorder.

 

He also fucked up the one chance of taking part in something exciting that would change the world.

 

He had graduated with honors and had half a dozen opportunities of work, none of which particularly appealed to him.

 

Eventually, Eduardo found he was out of what to bring up to his treatment. There was nothing left to say. He was tired of talking, talking and talking. Yeah, he was upset about Mark and the dilutions. Not much he could do here. No, he didn't blame Mark exclusively. So what? It didn't change the fact that it was over.

 

Food and weight were topics that, little by little, had stopped showing up.

 

There was not much that showed up recently, if he was honest. Nothing particularly bugging him, aside from the usual stuff. Eduardo had started mentioning moving on, looking for something that caught his interest. He longed for changes; another town, maybe. The idea of new people and new places was kind of appealing, it promised refreshment.

 

By the end of the year, Eduardo quit therapy and moved to New York.

And that's how his adult life started.

 

It consumed lots of time and energy and Eduardo was just glad. Getting a job was easy task; Eduardo had made as many business connections as he could during college, aside from the fact that he had made sort of a name with Facebook, so there were people looking for him. Maybe it wasn't the most exciting job in the world, but, well... he had earned it by his own merits, and it allowed him his independency, so.

 

In a couple of months he was settled in his apartment, thirty minutes from his job by car. Returning from work, after sunset, Eduardo enjoyed taking long, slow walks through the huge city. He liked sitting somewhere and watching people come and go, always in a rush. Eduardo imagined how their lives would be. No one looked lonely; everybody appeared busy, stylish and accomplished, though Eduardo knew it was only on the outside. He wondered if he looked as lonely as he felt. Probably not.

 

New York had the largest cultural display of the world. Eduardo took advantage and went to theaters, movies and show with work colleagues.

 

Little by little, a hole was starting to make itself known in his chest.

 

His therapist _had_ told him he was grieving. Not just for the loss of his best friend. His time of college, of being a student, was over. He lived alone now, when he had lived among his friends for years.

 

Chris and him were still in contact. Dustin... well, Eduardo had nothing against him. Dustin had contacted him after everything, and Eduardo knew Dustin was innocent in this story. Still, they were not in touch as much as before, and probably it was for the best.

 

So, Eduardo was startled when he stepped into Chris's house, on a weekend they had planned to hang out, and found Dustin there, too. Dustin smile hugely but with hesitance, until Eduardo smiled back and they patted each other shoulders.

 

It was extremely pleasant to realize that things had drastically changed and yet had stayed exactly the same between them. The weekend included movies, video games, bars and pizza. Stupidly like Kirkland years.

 

Eduardo went back to New York promising not to slip away, his anguish momentarily soothed.

 

That week, during his usual walk across the park near his place, Eduardo watched the runners, as he always did.

 

The point of his walk, as he had endlessly discussed in therapy, was taking time to himself. To care for his health. To breath and think and exercise the body, not harming it.

 

In the past, running had been an extenuating activity. Eduardo forced his starved, weak body to endure miles and miles. But what if it was done right?

 

God, Eduardo remembered the strong waves of adrenalin making him high, unbeatable, the feeling of surpassing limits. He c _raved_ it. And those runners, they were so fit, such perfect bodies. People in this city were beautiful. Eduardo was surrounded by beautiful, successful people. And even knowing from experience that these were only external qualities that were not necessarily related to happiness, that pursuing these things could easily fool someone into believing it was the answer to everything, Eduardo couldn't help longing for them with the same intensity he had once.

 

Being the typical overachiever, Eduardo started with five miles, even if he had not run in months. It was hard, but after he was delighted with accomplishment.

 

As he walked back home, that thing in his chest extended its claws and crushed his inside. Eduardo threw himself on his bed and cried so hard he was shaking, until there was no strength left, he was dry, only choked sobs came.

 

The pain threatened to rip him apart. What on earth was wrong with him? Why did he feel so lost?

 

Eduardo didn't know how long he stayed like this. At some point, his mind went numb, protecting itself. When he regained conscience, he stood, swallowed some water, forced some food down, took a shower and went to sleep.

 

In a month, he was running eight miles. As Eduardo suspected, his new exercise routine put him in the mood for a clean diet, and so he did. It was so much easier without anyone to watch over.

 

No other episode of crying his heart out came.

 

* * * * *

 

Eduardo was used to going out now and then. There were nice people from work and they eventually went to bars. On a particular night, however, he decided to try something new. But he'd have to do it alone, because nobody knew of his sexuality yet.

 

As Eduardo entered the place, he hoped he looked at ease and not a wreck of nerves as he felt. He took a seat by the counter and asked the barman for a drink, whatever it was. He swallowed it in a gulp and asked for another while he tracked his surroundings. Across the room was a small dance floor. Most tables were occupied with groups of four, five people. Only a few of them had couples or people on their own. Most were obviously guys, though in one of the groups and by the dance floor there were girls. It was a Friday night, just after eleven, and the bar was getting crowded.

 

There was a guy stealing glances of him for a while now, but Eduardo was being careful to ignore it, because the guy scared him, somehow. Maybe because he was older, probably over his forties, and too strong... he was attractive, but frightening. Even so, Eduardo imagined those arms grabbing him, holding him still, and _fuck..._

 

Not long after, Eduardo was flirting with someone. This man was probably around Eduardo's age, maybe a few years older. He was strong but not as much as the other and about Eduardo's height, maybe a little shorter. He had curly, dark hair and pale blue eyes. Eduardo was losing himself in them.

 

It didn't take long for the guy to come over and buy him a drink. They made small talk. The guy was a Pharmacology major and worked in a drugstore. Eduardo told him a little about himself but didn't feel comfortable doing so. Eduardo considered himself a romantic; he figured that, even with a stranger in a bar, he'd need some talking before anything, and, who knows, maybe... He'd wanted to meet someone nice for a while.

 

But now, it seemed so fake. This guy wasn't really interested in his life, was he?

 

Seeming to read from Eduardo's laconic answers, the guy smiled, he had a nice smile, and asked if he wanted to go somewhere else. Eduardo swallowed dry and agreed.

 

They ended in one of the bathroom cabins. Eduardo had refused leaving the place, afraid of being alone with a stranger.

 

He felt ridiculous kneeling in front of some unknown guy and trying so hard to please him with his mouth. But after, the guy pulled him up and jerked him off fast and rough, and Eduardo forgot his shame.

 

He should have gone out with the guy. It would have been even better.

 

* * * * *

 

Eduardo was still looking for a decent lawyer. He didn't even consider giving the lawsuit up.

 

But his anger had subsided considerably.

 

He thought about Mark every day, but not just about the bad things anymore. Eduardo just remembered him. Sometimes, faced with something funny, he laughed and couldn't help it, _only_ _Mark'd understand._ And he pictured Mark's sarcastic smirk and laughed even more. Then his mind warned him, _betrayal,_ and he stopped.

 

In his next visit to a club, Eduardo went to a hotel with someone.

 

He was feeling braver, having even been the one to buy the guy a drink.

 

The man, probably in his thirties, was blond, tall and not the strong type. He seemed eager to please, running his hands all over Eduardo's body.

 

Even not being so turned on yet, Eduardo knew he'd be soon, if he gathered courage to ask for what he wanted.

 

There were things he'd always dreamed of. Things that were probably, no, certainly dangerous to do with a stranger, but that he couldn't imagine being part of a healthy relationship.

 

When they were ready, Eduardo turned and lifted himself on his hands and knees.

 

Once he'd gotten used to the sensation of being filled and stretched and they'd found a rhythm, Eduardo managed between moans, his throat dry, _would you... my hair?_

 

It was easier not having to look the man in the face.

 

When the guy grabbed a handful of his hair, Eduardo arched his back, throwing his head back to show his approval. Then the man was pulling harder, hard enough to cause some pain, and Eduardo couldn't help the long, wounded sound escaping him.

 

_Ha...Harder,_ he pleaded, and was instantly granted with rough thrusts. _Not rough enough._

 

He imagined being a slut, being used, worthless. He imagined deserving the treatment he received, and yes, he probably did, maybe he was only good for this, for being _fucked, rough and raw._

 

Eduardo allowed himself to think of the sickness of his thoughts later. It was something that had been hidden somewhere within him for longer than he could tell, and Eduardo couldn't say if it was just some bizarre sexual fantasy or if it carried some truth.

 

He also didn't really care to find out.

 

* * * * *

 

After a while, things had settled, somehow.

 

Work was progressing just fine. Even not being his greatest passion (which would always be studying weather phenomena), Eduardo liked to do it well, and he'd always been competent. Plus, he was enough of an overachiever to have become a slight workaholic by now.

 

After work, he went for a run, every day.

 

Once he got home, he was so exhausted there wasn't time for anything else. Not to do, not to feel.

 

He was in touch with Chris, and sometimes, with Dustin. They couldn't see each other much, living in different cities. On occasional holidays, they met.

 

Once, Chris asked him about the lawsuit. He wasn't judging or anything. Chris was just worried, and he considered surreal the fact that, for his part, Eduardo never, ever mentioned the subject.

 

Not that it was much of a shock. Back at Harvard, Eduardo'd never been one to show weaknesses. It was extremely rare to see him angry, irritated or sad. You'd have to know him pretty well, otherwise it was easy to believe he was always fine. Actually, you'd have to know him well and be kind of insistent, even a little nosy, to get something out of him.

 

And Chris was the master of being nosy. With class, of course. Dustin was too, but without class. And Mark was too self centered.

 

It was hard to decide which of the two, Mark or Eduardo, would win the prize of major stubborn bastard. Really, they were putting Chris through a nightmare.

 

There was no way Chris believed this lawsuit was about business.

 

For some reason, Chris got the feeling Eduardo himself wasn't in touch with his reasons. He'd been extremely evasive, stating that _Mark wasn't willing to listen._

 

As if he'd tried to talk to Mark. He'd just yelled at him and disappeared.

 

It didn't help that Mark hadn't made a single attempt of moving his ass and doing something.

 

And now, Eduardo was pretending everything was fine while planning a fucking lawsuit.

 

* * * * *

 

Eduardo was back to controlling his food. He was attempting to eat a clean diet. Because in his mind, you can't just run and have junk food. It's like ruining everything.

 

So one night, at a club with his colleagues, after indulging in french fries and cheese, Eduardo excuses himself to the restroom, shoves a finger down his throat and purges.

 

It won't happen again, he promises.

 

_If he didn't eat like that again. Ever._

 

In his next visit to a club, Eduardo felt more confident.

 

He asked the man, who had accompanied him to the hotel room, to use his force.

 

_Don't worry about bruises, I don't care. I like it,_ he'd said, not knowing if the guy would agree. Thankfully, he smirked, and did.

 

_Come on, you're stronger than this,_ he complained, hoping the man would give him what he wanted.

 

Eduardo left with marks on his wrists and bruises on his thighs. It had felt really, really good. But still not enough.

 

As he got home, he'd strip facing the mirror, surveying the results on his body. Eduardo'd press fingers into the bruises, relishing the pain. He'd touch collarbone and hip bones, feeling their prominence. They were not jumping from the skin as they had once.

 

There was not that frailty in his body. That frailty which went so well with the way he felt.

 

Oh, but he refused thinking of frailty now. It was too much exhausting. Talking to friends, talking to a therapist, Eduardo'd done all that. He was moving on now, which already took all his time, and there was _not room_ for complaining now, it wouldn't take him anywhere.

 

Not even his awesome skills of pretense were able to fool Chris, though. Chris, who'd had a Friday off and came to stay in Eduardo's place for the weekend.

 

He'd only had to raise an eyebrow for Eduardo to drop the _I'm fine, thanks._

 

Chris didn't make an horrified face when Eduardo told him of his new fucking habits. He only asked ( _if Eduardo didn't mind telling him, of course),_ what pleasure did Eduardo get from it.

 

This couldn't be said. How being mistreated, being handled with no trace of kindness, not only got him off, but also felt _right._

 

“I just think it's hot”, he replied instead.

 

“But why?”, Chris insisted.

 

“It's... pretending I'm worthless, it's freeing. Liberating.”

 

Which was part of the true, nonetheless.

 

Eduardo could tell Chris was worried, but he didn't press further.

 

Before leaving, Chris informed him,

 

“Mark misses you, you know.”

 

Eduardo swallowed a lump.

 

“Yeah... What can I do? You meant to say I shouldn't sue him, then?”

 

“No. I just thought you should know. Knowing you, you'd think he doesn't.”

 

_Right. If Mark missed him, where the fuck was he, then?_

 

But he wasn't going to fill Chris's ears with useless complains.

 

“Well, I like to imagine our friendship wasn't a façade as well.”

 

“Good.”, Chris nodded.

 

But he couldn't even dream of the truth, could he?

 

There was no way for Chris to know that when Eduardo asked for a stranger to grab him with bruising force, and later, when he started asking them to hurt him, to hit his face and thighs, for some reason, it made Eduardo think of Mark. It made him think how he'd rather Mark had done _this_ to him than doing what he actually did.

 

It would have felt more intimate.

 

And this place in his mind, it was dark, it was _dangerous._ Eduardo wished it was buried deeper so that he could ignore them, but he couldn't. Because every time he undressed for a stranger and asked to be beaten, Mark was somewhere hidden in his head.

 

* * * * *

 

Time was passing too fast and the days always felt as the same.

 

Finally, it was time for the depositions.

 

But his fury was gone. Eduardo wished he'd done it when his anger still burned. It would have been easier. He decided he'd try to look angry anyway.

 

It wasn't difficult, because from across the table, Mark's stare made him feel stupid.

 

Like he was making Mark waste his precious time or something.

 

* * * * *

 

From the moment Eduardo had threatened to sue him, Mark had tried to convince himself it was just an outburst of anger.

 

But something told him it wasn't. Maybe the look on Eduardo's eyes. Maybe the fact that Eduardo hadn't contacted him since then.

 

Still, when the letter came to inform him it was true, Mark was so shocked he didn't mention it to anyone for a week.

 

_So pathetic, so typical of Eduardo, always so righteous, of course he'd have the law backing him up. His father'd be so proud._

 

And things had been suspended between them, because...

 

Mark knew exactly what he had to say.

 

He only doubted Eduardo'd like it.

 

So maybe he was delaying the day he'd have to do it. Now, though, Eduardo had made the decision for them.

 

Was this how he wanted to solve things?

 

Across the table, Mark stared blankly at Eduardo.

 

How he hated the idea of Eduardo telling the story as if he owned the truth.

 

* * * * *

 

From the moment he stepped into the depositions room, Eduardo regretted it.

 

Why on Earth had he thought this would be a good idea? Sitting in the same room as Mark without addressing each other, needing permission from a lawyer to speak to him.

 

He wanted to run from there and disappear from the world.

 

He coped in the best way he knew: hardly eating. And since he had lost some weight in the last months, Eduardo decided to take advantage and lose some more.

 

Maybe he could actually disappear.

 

* * * * *

 

On his place at the huge, rectangular table, everything about Eduardo's impeccable. His suit, his hair, his speech, flawless.

 

Mark was getting annoyed by every second.

 

Actually, annoyance's what he lets show.

 

Then, Eduardo was saying Mark only came to him for the money. Mark lifted his eyes from his drawing to meet Eduardo's gaze, trying to convey as much despise as he could.

 

Did Eduardo actually believed _that?_

 

Had he lost his mind?

 

Day by day, Mark was getting more and more alarmed. Eduardo was spilling over the depositions table much more than he'd care to admit, and Mark was taking the hint because for once he was really paying attention.

 

By the end of every session, Mark'd stay behind, finishing a draw or checking his email, while his mind processed what had been said.

 

He couldn't help being under the impression that Eduardo wanted nothing more to do with him. That during all their friendship, Eduardo had hidden too much, had harbored such a grudge.

 

On a weekend during the depositions, Dustin showed up at Mark's door, carrying a package of six. Mark rolled his eyes, knowing Dustin believed some kind of comforting was needed, and let him in.Mark'd been trying to code, recently the only thing he was able to do without being distracted, so he saved his work and accepted the can Dustin handed him.

 

“So, how's it going?”

 

Yeah, Dustin had no sense of being subtle. Mark kind of admired him for that. That's why they got along so well.

 

Mark shrugged.

 

“Wardo'll get his money soon.”

 

“Mark...”

 

“What?”, he said quickly, voice slightly raised, which startled himself.

 

“What did he say?”, Dustin questioned, unaffected by Mark's reaction.

 

Mark took a seat, reaching for a second drink.

 

“Apparently, I only came to him for the money and I planted the story about the chicken. Among other things.”

 

Dustin blinked, his eyes huge. They didn't say anything for a while.

 

“What do you think?”

 

Mark's jaw was tight.

 

“He's mad. That's it.”

 

Dustin nodded. Then,

 

“So, what's the plan?”

 

“Getting over with this and moving on.”

 

“What? What about Wardo?”

 

“He's made it clear what he thinks and what he wants. I'm not trying to convince him otherwise.”

 

“How can you tell what he wants?”

 

“Well, I believe when someone sues you, they don't want to talk to you, and they also want your money.”

 

Dustin chuckled with bitterness, something unusual for him.

 

“What about you, Mark? What did you do?”

 

“I certainly didn't accuse him of a bunch of lies. I didn't made up things only so I could get revenge. And I'm not whinnying to some lawyer because things didn't go as I planned.”

 

Dustin sighed. God, this was too draining. This story was lingering for so much longer than it should.

 

Really, Dustin _had d_ emanded to know what the hell Mark had done, because Wardo was his friend too, but he had not managed to get much out of Mark. And what Dustin saw was Mark going on with his life as if nothing was wrong, while at the same time, Dustin noticed something _was_ wrong with Mark, out of place. It was hard to catch, but Dustin'd lived with Mark, so. But Mark sometimes stopped coding, lost in wondering, a slight frown on his face. His temper was shorter. He seemed... bitter.

 

So, when he heard of the lawsuit, Dustin couldn't help feeling _hopeful._ He was an optimist, what could he do? At least the two of them would see each other, and who knows, _talk._

 

He should have known better. Chris told him so.

 

But hell, Wardo was being extremely passive-aggressive about this. Dustin knew it wasn't the way to get to Mark. He wished Chris was here; he'd make a good analysis of the situation and maybe help Mark think better. For Dustin, though, it all looked just as insanity.

 

As the depositions dragged on, Mark became angrier. One, because Eduardo _still_ refused to see his mistakes. Two, because their gazes kept meeting over and over, and what the _fuck_ did Eduardo want from him? And his eyes, they weren't always angry or hurt. Sometimes, they were piercing into Mark, a shade darker with something he couldn't quite identify, only it left a strong impression on Mark.

 

Mark wondered if _his_ gaze was conveying his confusion.

 

It wasn't until the last days, though, that Mark found himself _really_ looking at Eduardo. He couldn't help it, his eyes kept lingering on Eduardo's form.

 

Mark noticed dark bags under his eyes and cheekbones jumping.

 

His first thought was, _oh, is it affecting you so much? You're the one who chose to do it._

 

They were close to settling, Mark knew, and Eduardo was fucking serious about this.

 

Only now it was sinking in.

 

They'd probably never talk to each other again.

 

One day early morning, Mark had gotten there earlier than anyone. He hadn't selpt anyway, having coded all night, keeping unwelcome thoughts away. As Mark approached the bathroom, he heard weird, choked noises. Getting closer, it was unmistakable; someone was sick.

 

Hesitating at first, Mark decided to go in, in case someone was really bad.

 

As he stepped into the bathroom, the smell of vomit invaded his nostrils and Mark almost got sick himself. There was the sound of toilet being flushed, and then silence. Mark hesitated.

 

“Hey, you ok in there?”

 

“Yeah, I'm fine.”, came the voice, not sounding fine at all, but still recognizable.

 

When Eduardo opened the door and came out, Mark was still there, frozen in place.

 

Eduardo's body was doing that thing again where it started to betray him. At least once a week, it demanded that Eduardo ate _everything_ in sight, and it was driving him insane.

 

This morning, he'd already woken up eating. It was one of those times that Eduardo allowed himself to have something different from his usual diet. Something tastier.

 

And then, he could never stop himself.

 

So, after having a huge chocolate milk before leaving, Eduardo'd stopped at a coffee shop and ordered a muffin, than waffles, then a cookie and another hot chocolate.

 

But there were too many people to use the bathroom when he got there, already panicked with the thoughts of hundreds of calories and fat inside him.

 

Eduardo hoped to get to the deposition's building in time to throw up. But it had been half an hour, so it was harder than usual. His throat was burning now, aching, raw.

 

To make it better, Mark was staring at him with wide eyes, and Eduardo's own eyes went huge.

 

Mark studied him, and s _hit,_ not only Eduardo looked like crap, but his eyes, there was something else there. Actually, there _wasn't._ They were _lifeless._ Not at all like the way Eduardo had looked at him from across the table.

 

It looked all w _rong._

 

Eduardo had chose to ignore him and was washing his face, brushing his teeth. He'd pulled his sleeves up to his elbows. There were bruises on his wrists.

 

Even as Mark's mind processed all this, he knew he should be leaving, and yet, he couldn't make himself move. Because Wardo, Eduardo, was ignoring him, even when he'd made Mark come all the way from California and forced him to sit for weeks going over and over about this, and if Eduardo had given himself all this trouble to get his shares back, why hadn't he valued them when he actually _had it?_

 

“Are you happy now?”

 

Mark saw as Eduardo closed his eyes for an instant, as if gathering energy, before turning to him, eyes narrowed,

 

“Why would I be happy?”

 

“Well, it's clear you'll get more shares. Maybe not _everything,_ as you planned, but still.”

 

“Then, you should be happy too. You'll get rid of me soon.”

 

“Not so soon, as you'll still be a shareholder.”

 

“Don't worry, I won't be attending your big reunions.”

 

“Nothing new here, you were never present anyway.”

 

“Seriously? You want to go there again? I believe it's all we've been talking about, over and over!”, Eduardo snapped, though his voice was hoarse and he gripped the sink with both hands.

 

“I only seem to remember you talking, this is _your fucking lawsuit.”_

 

“And I don't seem to remember you saying anything this last year!”

 

“I'd said enough, I'd asked you a thousand times to be there, but you weren't.”

 

“We're running in circles, Mark, I don't know what else to say.”

 

“You're unbelievable. Even now... I don't even understand why you're fighting so hard for something that was yours once, but you didn't care about!”

 

Really, Mark didn't get it, _what the hell was wrong with Wardo?_

 

Eduardo's mind was spinning, getting him nauseous again.

 

Had Mark come to him only to throw on his face how his work as CFO had sucked? He'd already done it, did he need to repeat it, over and over?

 

“What do you want me to do, Mark?”

 

Mark looked away, shrugged, said nothing.

 

Eduardo frowned. Trust Mark to come in, whip Eduardo with his sharp tongue and out of nothing become completely unsure, almost... lost.

 

Eduardo breathed in, splashed more cold water to his face and turned from the sink where he'd been standing, with all the intention of just leaving.

 

As he turned, the world started spinning. Everything went dark and Eduardo had no choice but to crouch down to the floor and lower his head. Vaguely, the sound of his name being called had reached his ears. But the weight of a hand on his shoulder was unmistakable, and Eduardo lifted his head slightly only to see Mark, who had knelt as well.

 

He looked frightened. Eduardo had never seen Mark look like this.

 

Eduardo was frozen in the moment, both because he was really sacred of standing up, and also Mark was there, too close. Not saying anything, just there.

 

After what seemed like eternity, Eduardo announced,

 

“I'm fine now.”

 

Then he carefully stood up and left.

 

* * * * *

 

A couple of days later, it was over. Eduardo wouldn't have been able to take much more, anyway. It had drained him in a way he'd not anticipated. He'd been slowly loosing the fight in him. It had all been loosing sense.

 

Mark was right.

 

But there was no more anger left in him, not even pain. Just a hole, eating him alive. Day by day, Eduardo'd been feeling the growing distance between Mark and him. From the very start, it had felt _wrong_ being in the same room without talking and a bunch of strangers speaking for them. Eduardo had insisted, because it was the only thing he could do.

 

Had he imagined it would take him somewhere? The only answer he got was six hundred million dollars, plus five percent in shares.

 

The day after the depositions, Eduardo threw himself on his bed and slept all day, skipping work. He only got up at night for a run. Next day, he did the same. On the third day, he went to work but couldn't get anything done.

 

His father called him at night, told him that he'd better do something worthy with the money and to reconsider a thousand times before doing something stupid again. Told him Eduardo wasn't capable of making a decision for himself, and when he did, it screwed everything.

 

Told him it was ridiculous that he had believed Mark was his friend.

 

Eduardo disagreed. They'd been friends, but it was over. Things sometimes were over.

 

Maybe he could concede that Mark and him weren't meant to be friends.

 

Chris told him to get a vacation. Eduardo refused vehemently. The idea of whole days with absolutely nothing to do had seemed so appealing in the past. Now it terrified him.

 

No, he'd rather stick to his routine, where he wouldn't be at risk of losing his mind.

 

Eduardo had grown to abhor the idea of laziness.

 

Running was the most important thing of the day.

 

And if he had energy to run, well, no excuse to skip work.

 

In no time, things were back to normal.

 

Keeping on like this, it meant surviving, right? But Eduardo felt as if he'd fallen into a limbo, a state between life and death, even when he came home from running ten miles, and not even the stupid amount of adrenalin was enough to make him feel.

 

Could he go on like this forever? Could anyone?

 

When Eduardo woke up in a hospital a couple of months later, he thought it took his body long enough.

 

Eduardo'd gone to spend some time with Chris because his friend had insisted so and Eduardo, as terrible as he felt, was never one to keep away from people.

 

One night after dinner, Eduardo had thrown up because he was forced to eat more than he wanted, being with someone made it difficult to keep his usual habits.

 

When he stood up from the toilet, Eduardo collapsed.

 

Blinking, Eduardo winced as the light invaded his sight. Slowly, he took in the place around him: everything white, machines. And to the corner of the room, in a chair, was Mark.


End file.
